I Know Clandestinely
by arminly
Summary: Shopping has never been Elphaba's thing. Fiyero, however, is an entirely different story. Booksical!verse. One-shot


They've only been in _this_ particular boutique for less than five minutes and Glinda's already driving Elphaba up the wall.

"Ooh, that colour really suits you, Elphie!" she'll trill, and Elphaba duly wonders if it's somehow possible to conjure up a doppelganger to take her place in Glinda's grasp. The only consolation- _not_, she mentally scolds herself, _that she's actually going to look at him_- is standing a few feet away, leaning easily against the wall. So as to keep from distraction- there's no way in Oz she'll allow Fiyero to be the cause of her blushing (to hell with her emerald complexion)- Elphaba keeps her eyes firmly glued to the ground. Which, in this case, is a fluffy cornflower-blue carpet. _Blech._

"Pink, pink, pink!" Glinda sings, darting from mannequin to rack and back again. "There's not enough pink!"

_Lies._ The place is so fuschia it burns.

The shop assistant almost vaults over the counter in her desperation to help, but not without shooting a withering look in Elphaba's direction. The girl in question pokes out her tongue in return. She's so used to these minute glances of contempt, they've almost begun to seem funny. Don't even get her s_tarted_ on that one time Nessarose decided to purchase a-

"Miss, if you'll please? Over here.." Eyes comedically narrowed in concentration, Glinda's tugged by another beaming shop girl deeper into the _lair._

Elphaba tries not to let her features sour as the blonde winks at her, then winks at _him._ "I'll find you something pretty, too!" Glinda promises, and with a final twirl of silvery mesh skirting, she's gone.

Elphaba collapses into an overstuffed coral armchair. "Please," she murmurs to herself, the Wizard, the shop assistant- hell, anyone who'll listen, really. "Can I leave now?"

And of course the sultry voice of his royal Prince-ness (Elphaba tries not to care) immediately responds with, "I don't know, c_an_ you?"

Now, Elphaba's not one for going gooey round boys. She's a strong, independant young woman... Who (much to her own chagrin) has recently discovered she happens to be harbouring some insane bottled yearning for the aristocratic prat who's currently dating her best friend.

But whatever.

_Details, details, _as Glinda would say.

Crap.

"Don't go all elementary-school teacher on me," she shoots back, sneaking the tiniest glance at him from under the rim of her hat. _Subject F appears amused._

"You're not impressed?" Fiyero's suddenly perched on the armrest of Elphaba's pink prison. When she blinks in confusion, he adds: "Grammar. You called me a stuck-up rich-boy airhead the last time, remember?"

"Right, yeah..."

Close. Too close. It's all _so _superficial- she never used to give a damn about appearances, but now that they're so near she can practically s_mell_ him-

_Lion cub. Helped me save the lion cub. _

Dating Glinda.

_Lion cub._

_Bad, bad._

"I guess I must've been wrong," she shrugs, as much as one can when trapped between a guy and an armrest. Fiyero raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "And...?"

"Stuck-up rich boy it is," Elphaba decides, and Fiyero laughs. It's a deep, resonating sound- nothing at all like the raspy, perfunctory chortling he'd let out the first time they'd met, when he'd nearly run her over with his cart...

Wouldn't that be a fine tale to tell their grandchildren?

Before Elphaba can mentally slap herself for being such a girl, Glinda reappears, barely visible beneath a stack of shimmering gowns of all colour and material. She arranges her lips into a perfectly-glossed pout, clucking sympathetically at _Elphie'_s plain black frock.

"No, honey, no... this won't do.."

To Elphaba's unadulterrated horror, she's yanked into a dressing room after her.

"...give it back!"

"MORE SEQUINS! Dang, why didn't that work?"

"Let me go!"

"Sparkles, sparkles... here, try this one-"

"-they're not supposed to point that way?"

"Oh, I thought the green would rub off.."

"Last warning."

"Orange? Nah. Clashes with- well, everything.. How about purple?"

_"_I'll turn you into an eggplant!"

It truly is traumatic. When Glinda finally releases the dishevelled- and terrified - Elphaba back into her natural habitat- that is, the comforts of beneath her hat- she's so eager to escape that she literally smashes into Fiyero. _Thank Oz_ Glinda's still in her own little world behind the velvet curtains. If she's to catch sight of them... Elphaba scrambles up, knowing she should probably offer Fiyero a hand but deciding against it. Fiyero's got that aggravating smirk on his face- one side of his mouth tilting up, while the other's almost unsure whether he wants to smile or not. He dusts himself off and Elphaba winces, almost subconciously. _Avoid eye-contact._ At all costs.

She's no good at this communication lark. "Sorry?"

"Elphie, Elphie," Fiyero chides, then shuts up. She tries to mimic his lopsided grin that by no means sends a paled clerk racing for a bucket. "I- never mind. It's fine." He sniffs, then glances curiously at where Glinda's tossing dress after shimmering dress over the curtain partition. Her complaints are interspersed with occasional peals of laughter- the kind that Elphaba has long since learnt to associate with the phrase _something pink-ed this way comes._

"_That's not going to fit Elphie! Wait, no, that doesn't match... Thanks, but no thanks... Ugh, maybe we'll just have to find another place.."_

"Glinda wears a l_ot _of perfume," Elphaba says. "And I mean a_ lot_." When she's sure Fiyero's eyes are trained firmly on his girlfriend (yes, _girlfriend)_ - who's now strutting up and down the aisles, modelling a floor-length emerald number that, though patriotic, leaves much to the imagination- Elphaba allows herself one more look at him.

It's not, she reminds herself bitterly, like she actually has a chance.

"What do you think?" Glinda demands, now a vision in lilac. She looks like an upside-down, thoroughly glittery tulip, but Elphaba inclines her head, the gentlest _please choose something already_ she can manage. "It's fine."

"Looks nice," Fiyero says mildly. There's a terse silence, much staring, until Glinda flounces off with a groan, exclaiming, "It's _wrong!_ All _wrong!",_ a dozen shop assistants in her wake.

The moment she's out of sight Elphaba tugs at the sleeves of her frock, willing herself to vanish. Off the face of the earth would be nice, but out of this quirky little suburbian dress-shop is even better.

"I noticed," admits Fiyero. "About the perfume, I mean."

"Oh." She pictures the star-crossed couple: Glinda, all golden curls and charisma (lacking a little in the IQ department, but that's irrelevant) hand-in-hand with Fiyero. And then they embrace. What Elphaba wouldn't give to be in Glinda's position then.

Neither of them can think of anything to say- and Elphaba's an expert in awkwardness- so they sit in silence. Then he flicks her.

"What the hell's that for?"

A picture of innocence, Fiyero shrugs. And flicks her arm again.

Thumb and index finger.

"Can I try on your hat?"

_Why?_

"I don't know," Elphaba quips, "can yo-"

"How do I look?" Glinda interrupts, twirling onto the scene in an atrocious scarlet number. "It's a little... red-ifying, don't you think?" She suddenly pales at a realisation. "I don't look like- like-"  
Menstruation? "Nah," says Fiyero, and for the first time in what seems like forever, Elphaba feels like laughing.  
Glinda brandishes a warning finger at the two of them. "I WILL FIND YOU OUTFITS!" she threatens, and then another clerk appears and that's the end of that.

Almost as if they weren't interrupted, Fiyero grins at her. "Why, Miss Elphaba! Did you just go all-" he pauses in mock-surprise "grade-school teacher on me?"

_Friends,_ she chants. _Friends, friends, Glinda, Nessa, friends._

Out loud, Elphaba manages to suppress a giggle. (It's such a Glinda thing to do- she won't be surprised if tomorrow she'll start getting urges to buy new shoes- or worse, _lipgloss!_)

"So that's a yes?"  
"No!" But he takes it anyway.

"Geez, were you raised in a barn?" she exclaims, crossing her arms like she's seen other girls do. It's supposed to mean something like "I'm angry, but not really." Acting like a 'girl' is s_uch_ a chore. Elphaba's grudgingly formed some sort of respect toward Glinda for managing to keep this up all day, every day.

_Nerves of steel,_ as Glinda- well, she was G_a_linda back then- had told her. "And great hair." Elphaba's fingers automatically fly to her braid. She peels them off, thinking _This is stupid. I'm not Glinda._

Meanwhile Fiyero's oblivous, and totally unabashed. "A palace, actually." He lowers his voice, like he's letting her in on a big secret- mouth in a childish pout and all. "Royals," he whispers, "don't do manners."

Elphaba snatches the hat back indignantly.

"Well, guess what? Here in Oz, outside of your snotty little-"

"But I like your hat!" Fiyero whines (proving his point). "It's so... you."

"Yeah, well..."  
She bites her lip, checking to see if Glinda's out and about. She isn't. _Not at all relieved. Nope._ But Elphaba keeps a wary lookout nonetheless. "Don't try it on, you'll mess up your 'royal' hair." She tries to make the quotation marks obvious enough, to penetrate his bubble of ego, but it's all in vain.

"...I rather think it suits me, don't you?"  
"Meh."

Fiyero grins again, and it seems like he's just about to say something else but Glinda storms out of the dressing boudoir, face like thunder.

Admittedly _well-powdered _thunder, but to Elphie she seems furious nonetheless.

Looking exceedingly guilty, Elphaba shoots to her feet. She'll ignore the incriminating evidence behind her if F- if _he_ will.

"It's ridiculous!" Glinda complains, flinging herself onto the recliner with enough force to rupture a lung. "I can't seem to find anything- this is going to be the worst birthday ever!"

She's in such a state that she appears to overlook the fact that her tulled behind has landed in Fiyero's lap, possibly flattening him on impact.

He's still wearing the hat.

"What do you mean?" Elphaba grips her elbows, struggling not to laugh at her friend's ludicrously distraught face. "Glinda.." Glinda sniffs miserably into Fiyero's chest, then raises her head, looking at them through her lashes. Had she not worked herself up to this extent, Elphie would've noted the wicked gleam in her friend's eyes, the giggles amidst her 'racking' sobs. "You'll find something. Calm down."

"But-"

"There _are_ other shops," Elphaba reminds her firmly.

_Please take off the damned hat. She'll see. _"Hey, shh. Look, that one's... nice?" She points feebly at a short red _thing_ in the shop-girl's arms. "It's all shiny..." Correction- it looks like a scarlet roll of foil, but that's irrelevant.

She desperately squints at Fiyero, but he shrugs, too busy patting Glinda (somewhat awkwardly) on the head. Even her usually spirited hair's gone limp. "You like shiny, right?"

"But-"

"_Shiny,"_ Elphaba enthuses. "Glitter. Frills. Erm..." She'll calm Glinda down, sure, but this may kill her in the process. "You and-" her toes curl, subconsciously, inside her boot, "_Fiyero_ can pick out similar outfits." She's oh-so-glad that neither of them happen to feel the need to look down- ugh, now her mind's doing that rambling thing again- because her boots really a_re_ worn, and they'd notice the squirming of her feet, put two and two together.

Elphaba's words seem to have done the trick, since Glinda tackles her in a pink hug, a flurry of vanilla, and the feather boa she's for some reason forgotten to take off. "Thanks, Elphie!"

"Elph_aba."_

_"_Whatever!" Glinda chirps, and bounds away.

"Glad she's perked up," Elphaba mutters darkly, though the relief she feels is unrivalled.

She crosses and uncrosses her arms, gazing pointedly at her hat. Maybe she'll have to physically yank it from his grasp. For a guy who claims to be a prince, Fiyero's behaviour is pretty damn uncivilised.

Or so she forces herself to believe, since anything else would be preposterous and out of the question.

"Hey, _Elphie_?"

"Elph_aba._"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Fiyero blinks in confusion as the hat vanishes from his head- leaving a mess of ruffled tufts of hair, sticking up in every direction.

"Magic?"

Elphaba shakes her head plainly, biting down on the inside of her lip to keep from, well, _everything._ "Just handiwo-"

"Guys!" Glinda skids back to a baby-blue halt before Fiyero, beaming.

One look at his face, however, and she's- not quite frowning, because _ew, _that will give her wrinkles- adopted a more controlled facial expression. "What are you two looking so happy about?" She peers round the room accusingly, and to Elphaba's dry amusement, a shopgirl overturns a shoe display in her eagerness to eavesdrop. "Well?"

_Crap._

"You look lovely, dear," Fiyero manages. Elphaba feigns interest in her socks. "It, uh, really brings out the colour of your eyes."

"Really?"

Cue a volley of earnest nods.

"Thank you! Obviously I knew already, but..."

Fiyero and Elphaba remain in the same rigid, three-metres-away-from-each-other-as-was-designated-by-society positions until Glinda's safely out of sight.

Then Elphie kicks the ottoman from under his sovereign feet.

"People clean these things, jeez!" she exclaims, to which Fiyero merely raises a lazy eyebrow.

He's v_ery_ good at this game. "Speaking animals are one thing, but we're talking about _furniture _here."

Elphaba purses her lips.

_(Great going, E.)_

"Very well..." Without warning, Fiyero suddenly yanks a dress-rail towards them. It's much higher than them- made to exhibit some of the pricier dresses, all of which Glinda's already vetoed- and provides enough coverage so the nosy-parker behind the counter won't feel the need to observe so much.

Fiyero, eyes glinting mischievously, clears his throat.

_No.._

A wink.

_...Maybe?_

"This is a bad idea," Elphaba warns. "Really bad. Don't-" But she can't contain a crooked smirk.

"Just to reiterate," Fiyero tells her, "I'm but one in an _army_ of her admirers."

Elphaba rolls her eyes.

"Oh, how I'd love to look at these dresses!" she announces, in what feels like the most excessively loud voice she's ever spoken in, for the benefit of the lovely shop girl. "What a nice... rail?" She trails off, honestly having no ideas._ Rail? Really? _Winging it seemed like the safest bet, but it's not working out so far. _This is why the girly stuff should be left to Glinda._

Time to abort mission.

_"Miss, maybe that's a little on the large side?"_

_"It's meant to be! Elphie's, like, taller than me!"_

"You know what's funny?" Fiyero suddenly asks, peering down over the rest of his perch at a silent Elphaba, who's furiously inspecting her nails (_are they meant to be this long?_) cross-legged on the ottoman.

"_Not green! Haven't you seen her? SHE'S green!"_

Elphaba chuckles into her hat, but it comes out strained. She's totally not thinking about kissing him. _Nuh-uh._

"Someone's been observant of late."

_No way in hell._

"See, the funny thing is," Fiyero repeats, and this time he actually bothers to slide off the chair and land beside her, on the carpet, "is that chicks usually dig me."

"Uh-uh." _Wasn't there some homework I haven't finished? That essay for...something. Yeah. Writing._

"Everyone of them, since, like, _ever-" Is he rambling? Wait, no. That's my thing._ "-as a kid, too-" _Shut up, brain._  
Fiyero's looking over her shoulder."I'm sure you were the most c_harming_ of embryos," she assures him, perhaps a little tensely, "but get to the point?"

"See, I'm taking Life Sciences this semester, and, uh, there's this project..."

"Sorry, what?" This isn't quite how she expected the conversation to go. She gives a nervous little snort. "Right, because you, studying... Ha ha." Fiyero half-looks like he's about to launch into one of his 'Elphaba do you ever shut up' spiels so she hurriedly apologises, bobbing her head down so as to hide her burning cheeks.

Looking increasingly like a naughty schoolboy, he tilts her chin up with his thumb.

"Let me guess," Elphaba says, marvelling at how nonchalant she (thinks she) sounds, given the situation. "The Professor said you needed to-" "Exactly," Fiyero agrees quickly, and that's how Elphaba ends up kissing her best friend's boyfriend, both cross-legged on the floor of the dinky boutique, feeling no shame whatsoever. This, of course, leads to an intense mental discussion with her concience over her life choices, but _she's finally kissing Fiyero and no-one's yet stopped her,_ so who the hell cares?

"Finally!" Glinda explodes, from where she's apparently been spying on them from behind the dress rack. "Sweet Lurline, I'm good. I was starting to think you'd never get to it!" She grins at them. "What, you thought I didn't know?"

Elphaba stares dumbly. She's in too much shock to move away from him, and even then, what good would that do?

"I- Thank you," Fiyero says quietly. He and Glinda exchange knowing looks, like they've discussed this before, briefly or otherwise, and for the second time today, he sounds genuine. Elphaba manages an articulate, "What?"

"You're too cute," Glinda coos, and pulls her friends closer, tight enough to squeeze the life out of them. "Just tone it down a little while I'm around, kay?"


End file.
